Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and the other characters of the Harry Potter Universe
belong to J.K. Rowling. This writing is for pleasure only. No
profit is intended.

A/N
This story is set in the summer after HBP. Thar be spoilers ahead!

I
need to give serious thanks to Acacia59601 and Zayne for their beta
efforts. They both have the most wonderful ideas! I also need to
thank Twosluggos for putting up with my continual punctuation
questions.

Hermione
plodded down the well-worn stairs of the Burrow wearing her dressing
gown. Her watch announced that it was half-past ten and she had
better get some breakfast, before everything was gone. Still sleepy
and not feeling in the best of moods, Hermione banged the watch-face
deliberately against every post of the rickety handrail, until the
nagging voice ceased. She had purchased the watch, thrilled with its
promise of 'enchanted reminder' functions. The timepiece was
similar to a wizard's mirror, in that it gave her bits of advice,
along with loud announcements of appointments and deadlines. In
short, it was a watch that nagged. After wearing the watch for
nearly two agonizing weeks, Hermione was quite ready to chuck the
timepiece into the nearest rubbish bin.

Life
bustled on the ground floor of the Burrow. Bill and Fleur's
wedding was scheduled for mid-afternoon, in the adjoining garden.
Mrs. Weasley was dashing around the kitchen, putting finishing
touches on platters of food and inspecting the linens. Hermione and
the other three teens in the house, along with anyone hapless enough
to be commandeered by the Mother-of-the-Groom, had spent the last two
days preparing for the wedding under Mrs. Weasley's eagle-eyed
direction.

At
one end of the plain, wooden table, Ron and Harry were engaged in an
intense, but quiet discussion over a spread parchment. Dirty
breakfast dishes served as anchors for each parchment corner. At
the other end of the table, Ginny was untying a small, brown
paper-wrapped parcel from the leg of a delivery owl. Directly in
front of her sat a steaming teapot and several empty mugs. Hermione
headed purposely that way. Pouring a fragrant cup of tea, Hermione
plopped down in the chair next to Ginny, bumping the table with her
leg. Across the table, Harry and Ron looked up at the jarring and
both gave her wide grins. Idiotically staring grins, that is.

"What's
wrong with them?" Hermione asked Ginny, grumpily.

"They're
idiots, don't you know," Ginny replied, absent-mindedly,
struggling to untie the heavy packing string from around the small
box.

"They've
always been idiots," Hermione frowned, glaring at Ron. The object
of her contempt gave a little wave and waggled his head at her,
knowingly. "They've reached new lows today, mentally, that is."
She took a long sip of hot tea. It felt very good sliding down her
dry throat.

Ginny
gave up trying to untie the string and took to chewing on the cord.
From across the table, Harry silently cut the string with a wave of
his wand. Unbound, the box dropped noisily to the table, leaving
bits of string dangling from Ginny's mouth like furry dental floss.
Ginny was not amused.

"He
can't use magic outside of school! He won't be seventeen for
weeks!" Hermione cried, looking out the window for the Ministry Owl
bearing a warning.

"He's
been doing that all morning," Ginny replied with grit in her voice.
"According to Ron, Dumbledore told him the Ministry couldn't
pick up underaged magic in a wizarding home." Ginny began to
unwrap the paper covering the box. "I think he's taunting them.
He's spoiling for a fight, you know."

"Yes,
I know. I'm worried about him," Hermione replied. She was
silently considering the question of Ministry monitoring practices.
Her hand itched to try out some magic, just to see what would happen.
Maybe a nice jinx would wipe that stupid grin off Ron's face.

"I
think the Dynamic Duo over there, are grinning at your hair," Ginny
muttered, while picking spell-o-tape off from the package. Finally,
the box tumbled free of its wrapping.

Hermione
set down her mug and used one hand to feel the crown of her head.
Her fingertips were greeted with bushy hair sporting maximum vertical
lift. Raising her other hand, she asked her watch, "Just how bad
is my hair?"

"Your
hair gives the term 'bed-head' new meaning," came the tinny
reply. "It's nearly eleven o'clock. You might as well give up
on breakfast and have lunch instead. Or dinner, after you brush your
hair."

Hermione
gave the watch a few bangs on the table. It quieted immediately.
Ron and Harry had returned their attention to the spread parchment.
If Hermione squinted hard, she could make out a detailed map drawn on
the parchment. She started to point out the map to Ginny, when the
writing on the box caught her attention.

Weasleys'
Wizard Wheezes' Original

WooDoo
Doll!

"What
is that?" Hermione asked, intrigued. She moved to pick up the
small box, but Ginny lightly smacked her hands.

"Revenge,"
came the singular reply. Ginny opened the box herself, and dumped
out a small rag-doll and a folded piece of paper.

Hermione
quickly picked up the paper and read, "Congratulations on your
purchase of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' Original WooDoo Doll!
Follow these three easy steps to enchant your doll to the magical
signature of a person of your choice. Once enchanted, you can use
the doll to Woo the Lover of Your Dreams by following the easy
directions on page two, or punish an ex-lover, using the even easier
directions of page three. Warnings: The
WooDoo Doll has magical blocks on all erogenous zones and cannot be
used to cause permanent or fatal injuries It is
strongly suggested that you read all instructions and plan your
WooDoo event, prior to invoking the doll."
Hermione stopped reading to stare at Ginny. The younger girl was
stroking the doll with a strange look on her face. "You have got
to be kidding me. I thought you were fine with Harry's pulling
away," she commented.

Ginny
didn't look up. "That was last week. Today, things are
different. I have officially reconsidered my original decision to
let Harry hold himself nobly apart. I told him so, but he isn't
listening. I hate when he doesn't listen to me." Ginny
took a deep, cleansing breath. "Go on, keep reading. What does
page three say?"

Hermione
hesitated, Harry had no clue that Mount Ginny was about to erupt.
Should she warn him or enjoy the show? The show, definitely. There
was no way she was going to get between Ginny and what that redhead
wanted. Her own hair would not be improved by bat-bogies. Taking a
sip of her tea, she continued reading. "Step one: Use ordinary
ink to draw your person's likeness on the doll. Step two: Attach a
personal item to the doll. This item must have touched your person's
skin; hair, nail pairings or other shed body parts are best. Step
three: Check your watch. You have fifteen minutes after activation
for the embedded Notice-Me-Not charm to cease functioning. After
that time, the doll's effectiveness will also begin to diminish.
We recommend securing a clear escape route at all times. Now enjoy!"
Hermione took another sip of tea. "Fifteen minutes isn't
very long," she said.

"It
will be enough," Ginny muttered. She was drawing a face, complete
with round-lens glasses and lightning bolt scar, on the head of the
doll. "Read page three," she ordered.

Hermione
noticed that Ginny was quite good with her drawing. She turned to
page three and read, "Punishments imposed on the WooDoo Doll
will echo the same effect on your person/ex-lover. For example: A
pinprick on the foot will be felt by your person/ex-lover on his/her
foot. Be creative! Remember that erogenous zones are magically
blocked. No amputations, severe mutilations or fatal injuries will
magically be permitted." Hermione set the paper down. "This
won't keep Harry from hunting down Voldemort." Her stomach gave
a massive growl of emptiness. Hermione looked around for an
unwatched plate of food that hadn't been clearly claimed for the
wedding. In the center of the table, lay a perfect basket of scones
with an open pot of jam.

Ginny
looked up with amusement. "I don't expect that it will. I plan
on going with him on the hunt. I just need something to get his
attention before I tell him what is what." Hermione's stomach
gave another rumble, causing both girls to grin.

"He'll
never agree to that and neither will your Mother. You know Harry,
this distance is only temporary. You need to finish school,"
Hermione soothed, while helping herself to a scone with jam.

"Isn't
this the pot calling the kettle black! I don't see you intending
to finish school; or Harry, or Ron! Besides, I have no intention of
telling my mother until I am at least a continent away. It's not
up to Harry. He didn't succeed in stopping me from coming to the
Department of Mysteries, and he won't stop me now. Careful, you've
dripped jam all down your front." Ginny motioned at Hermione's
dressing gown. "Harry has been completely ignoring me since we got
on the train. I will not be ignored!"

Scrubbing
at the jam with a towel, Hermione asked, "You still need a personal
item. What do you have?"

"Good
point, wait here." Ginny marched to the other side of the table,
reached over, and pulled out several hairs from Harry's
unsuspecting head.

"Ouch!
What was that for?" Harry yelled, rubbing his head. Ron looked up
from the parchment, puzzled by the commotion.

"Sorry,
Harry. I thought I saw a billywig land in your hair. My mistake,"
Ginny simpered, hiding the hairs behind her back.

Harry
stared at her for a moment, clearly undecided on what to say.
Finally he whispered, "Thank you, Gin," and returned to
discussing the parchment with Ron.

With
a definite sashaying sway, Ginny strutted back to Hermione's end of
the table, brandishing her prize.

"Billywigs
are from Australia. Is that the best you could come up with?"
Hermione asked with amusement, buttering a second scone.

"It
worked, didn't it?" Ginny replied. Picking up her wand, she laid
the black hairs against the doll head and whispered nexi nexum.
The hair fused instantly, causing the doll to thrum softly. It
didn't look like Ginny was concerned with her use of magic out of
school, either. "Here goes," Ginny announced. Lifting her chin,
she called out, "Harry, why don't share what you're looking at
with the rest of the table?"

Harry
looked up, annoyed. "We discussed this at the lake, Ginny."

Hermione
watched, while Ginny took the pointed end of her quill and jabbed the
bottom of the doll's feet. Across the table, Harry flinched
noticeably.

This
time, Harry reached down and removed his shoe. Hermione smothered a
grin, while Harry shook the shoe, attempting to remove whatever was
stinging his foot.

Ginny
wasn't done yet. "We may not be involved as a couple, but I will
be involved in your plans." She punctuated the word 'plans'
with a jab to the other foot.

Harry
gave a little cry of dismay and toed off the other shoe. Finding
nothing in that one either, he quickly removed both socks and
inspected them, inside out. "I won't have you involved, it's
too dangerous," Harry replied, waving his socks in emphasis.

"That
is not your choice," Ginny said evenly, staring Harry down. The
two locked eyes for a full minute, before Harry turned back to the
parchment. Oblivious, Ron hadn't noticed any of the exchange.

"I
hate being ignored," Ginny muttered under her breath. Hermione
noticed the telltale sign of Weasley anger on Ginny's red-tipped
ears. Ginny turned the doll over and viciously stabbed its bottom.
Harry leapt up with a yelp, rubbing his backside. Ginny stabbed
again. Harry spun in circles, looking for the cause of the stinging,
knocking his shoes and socks to the floor. His last spin ended
facing Ginny.

"Billywigs?"
Ron finally caught wind of the conversation. "Those are serious,
Harry. You'd better get your clothes off and get them out. Their
sting can make you sick, you know."

"I
am not taking off my clothes! Your sister is doing this. Even I
know that billywigs live in Australia!" Harry roared, pointing a
finger at Ginny.

"Yeah,
but Fred and George breed them, up in their old room. They've
gotten out before. Nasty sting!" Ron explained. Harry looked
uncertain.

Ginny
flashed Hermione a triumphant smirk and stuck the doll's back a
dozen more times. This time, Harry started shucking his clothes as
fast as he could. Once down to his knickers, Ginny concentrated her
jabs on his backside. The doll's rear end was peppered with tiny,
black marks. Harry rubbed his bum frantically, but didn't remove
his last piece of clothing.

"Hold
still," Ron ordered. "Let me look for welts."

Hermione
and Ginny could see Harry's skin crawling from the assault. Ron
slowly looked over every inch of Harry's body. "No sting marks,"
he proclaimed, looking confused.

Ginny
inked the quill again and wrote carefully on the doll's arm, I
will not be ignored! Setting the quill down, she gave the doll's
hand a good thump with her fingers. Harry yelped again and looked at
his hand . . . and at the writing on his arm.

"Ginny!"
he growled. Hermione had rarely seen Harry so furious. She thought
he looked really funny, standing there in his knickers, slowly going
red.

Ginny
stood and brandished the WooDoo Doll. "I won't be told what to
do. Not by you or anyone else!" She threw the doll at Hermione
and ran out into the garden.

Harry
started to follow, but was stopped by Ron's voice. "You can't
go out there in your knickers, Mum's outside!" Sliding to a
halt, Harry snatched up his pants and ran out the door.

"Blimey!
What was that all about?" Ron asked, while searching Harry's
shirt for billywigs. Hermione tossed the doll at him.

"Ah,
a WooDoo Doll. Excellent choice," Ron brightened, tossing the
shirt to the ground. Hermione gave him a measured frown. Ron
noticed and blushed bright red. "I've just heard of them," he
stammered. "It's not like I've used one or anything."

Hermione
gave Ron a suspicious look. She opened her mouth to reply, when Mrs.
Weasley rushed into the kitchen, a panicked look on her face.

"Ron,
get outside and stop Harry and Ginny!" she shrieked. "They are
shooting hexes at each other around the big oak tree. They are going
to hit the buffet tables, I just know it."

"But
Mum," Ron grinned, "they'll stop faster for you than for me."

Mrs.
Weasley closed her eyes in exasperation and counted slowly to ten.
Opening her eyes, she bore down on Ron. "Harry is standing, in the
middle of the garden, by all the wedding tables, practically NAKED!
Now, get yourself up and get him to put some clothes on! While you
are at it, get Harry and Ginny to stop cursing each other or I'll
PUT ALL THREE OF YOU OVER MY KNEE!" The force of Mrs. Weasley's
words practically blew Ron right off his chair.

"Yes,
Mum," came the meek reply.

"That's
better." Mrs. Weasley intoned quietly, while smoothing her apron.
"Hermione, dear, could you please go upstairs and get ready for the
wedding? I believe your hair will require some extra attention."
Giving Ron one last meaningful glare, she left the room.

"Whew,
that was close," Ron exhaled. "Come on then, let's go stop the
WooDoo before He-Do something to She-Do!" Ron gave Hermione a
cheeky grin.

"I
suppose you think you are very funny. Ha. Ha. I think you need to
worry more about He-Do, I mean, Harry. Ginny is going to mop the
floor with him," Hermione groused, arms crossed over her chest.

"I
know I'm funny," Ron grinned wider and walked out the door.

Hermione
stuck her tongue out at Ron's back, but followed him out into the
garden. Sure enough, there were Ginny and Harry, out by the oak
tree. Harry still hadn't put his pants back on. One moment Ginny
was yelling at Harry, her face wildly alive with fiery temper. The
next moment, Harry had Ginny pinned to the oak tree, kissing her . .
. intensely. Two paces in front of Hermione, Ron stopped suddenly
and clenched his fists. Hermione quickly grabbed one broad shoulder
and spun Ron around. "Looks like everything is taken care of
here," she grinned. "Give them a minute, and then we'll chase
them back inside."

"No
Ron, leave them be. Two minutes from now, is plenty-soon enough, to
get Harry's pants back on," Hermione said, as she reached up to
smooth Ron's hair. He was quite tall these days, she had to
stretch way up to reach his head. Ron obliged by lowering his head
to meet her, lips slightly parted, eyes looking nervous. After one
gentle stroke, Hermione seized a small clump and yanked the red hairs
out by the roots.

"OUCH!"
Ron screamed. "What was that for?"

"For
my own WooDoo Doll," Hermione smirked.

The
End

A/N
I loved HBP and just had to get this story out. I promise to get
back to my WIP Court Ordered Diet right away.

Authors
thrive on the reviews, good or bad. Please take a moment and let me
know what you think of my little tale. Thank you.

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.